


Thousand Year Reign

by Lenti



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Compromise, Developing Relationship, Dictatorship, F/M, First Order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenti/pseuds/Lenti
Summary: A critical moment in time. Rey is left with nowhere to go and no hope to carry on. So, she accepts Ben and his promise of an empire that will last for a thousand years.





	1. Chapter 1

“No!” Her palms struck the circular sheet of glass hard.

As Ren slayed the final Praetorian guard, Rey had run to the looking glass, just in time to witness the last _Raddus_ escape ship being picked off. The tiny ship’s interior became exterior as a bright flash of light was violently expelled from the wreck. In her heart, she heard the cries of horror and panic, abruptly cut off before they could turn to death rattles. In shorter time than the human brain could possibly process, all life on the vessel had been snuffed out in an instant.

The Resistance was dead - the hope had been snuffed out with it. While Snoke’s Elite Praetorian Guard had been driven to avenge their master’s murder, engaging Rey and Ren in a struggle to the last survivor, the final battle between the _Supremacy_ and the _Raddus_ had raged on in the backdrop.

General Hux - no one ever seemed to give the sullen man enough credit - had given priority to first destroying the Resistance flagship before picking off the fleeing U-55 loadlifters the First Order had been clued onto by the turncoat, DJ. Why go after the cubs when the mother Hanadak sat so close by, ready to strike? As the galactic lifeboats, poorly hidden behind the _Raddus_ , were in range of the _Supremacy’s_ turbolasers, logically so was the _Raddus_.

Although its destroyed companions, the _Anodyne_ and the _Vigil_ , had been significantly smaller; with only one vice-admiral to man the ship and all its vast guns and defences, the _Raddus_ was entirely vulnerable to enemy fire once it had lagged into the range of the _Supremacy’s_ armaments, the proximity negating its remaining shields.

While the crew celebrated their impending victory, the general sent out a series of TIE fighters to finish the job. Serving only as evacuation ships, the U-55 loadlifters could do nothing but continue pushing forward, each one succumbing to the TIE fighters’ laser cannons as they were picked off in easy succession.

Aboard the _Supremacy_ itself, the rebels Finn and Rose Tico were executed on the orders of Captain Phasma. With their deaths, the spirit of the Resistance had been reduced to nothing but the powerless child labourers on Cantonica and the other helpless downtrodden like them throughout the galaxy. The Resistance’s fickle allies had not answered the distress call, and with the Resistance wiped out, in short time they would soon submit to the might of the First Order.

Rey spun on the taller man, brown eyes hot and wet. “We could have saved them!” General Organa. Captain Poe Dameron. Finn. They were all gone.

“Rey.” Despite the steadiness of his low voice, there was an anxious desperation in his hard stance, a silent plea for her to understand. They were both alone now - truly alone in the universe. “Let the past die. And let it stay dead. It’s a foregone conclusion, there’s nothing you or I could have done.” He shook his head, increasingly agitated, when she shook hers in incredulity.

“Wasn’t there?”

“Rey, listen to me,” he urged. “Snoke is dead. The Resistance is dead. The Jedi, the Sith - they’re nothing but legends of the past now. But the First Order still stands, and if you and I do nothing then someone else will just fill Snoke’s place.”

Shakily, she laughed, her eyebrows furrowing into an expression of disbelief. “So you want to fill that role? Become dictator to save us all? How very noble of you.”

His mouth tightened in displeasure. “No. Don’t you have faith in us?” ‘Us’ was uttered firmly, empathically. He wanted her to understand, to see his vision as plainly as he did. “You and I - we belong together,” Ren insisted, his resolution only intensifying in the face of her stubbornness. “Only we can establish order. We won’t subjugate the downtrodden. We’ll bring universal peace to every planet. We’ll usher in a new age of concord, stability, and progress.”

Rey bit her lips in consideration, torn between idealism and dark pragmatism. Ren seized upon her indecision. “There’s no other alternative. Either we do this or Hux will - and his aspirations don’t line up with ours,” he warned. Seeing her mouth open, an argumentative pout forming, he continued aggressively. “The New Republic is dead. Their end was inevitable - through their idleness and arrogance they brought on their own end. If the First Order hadn’t dismantled them first, down the line someone else would have - from the inside or out. The galaxy needs a strong hand to guide it. We can provide that.”

“Rey - ” His impassioned monologue was suddenly cut off as they both turned to face the ominous sounds of approaching footsteps.

A man sporting bright copper hair strode into the throne room, his pale face gaunt and angry. His narrowed eyes fell first on Snoke’s corpse - from the detached torso sprawled on the floor at the feet of the throne, to the lower half that still remained seated where he had been slain. Slowly, his pale gaze settled on Rey and Ren, a cautious stiffness spreading over his black-clad form as realisation struck him. Rey could see the indecision playing out in his mind, even as his face remained a blank sheet. She could practically envision the twitch in his fingers, the impulse to seize his blaster. She could almost respect his self-control.

“What happened?” General Hux snarled out, his bravado betrayed by the anxious waves of fear permeating from him through the Force.

“Snoke is dead,” was Ren’s plain, wry answer.

There was a short pause before: “I have to inform the ship.” Hux made to leave, hastily pivoting on his heel with hardly a second glance afforded to Rey. The First Order general froze midway in-step, his pale blue eyes widening in distress as they snapped back to Ren.

“You will inform them that the Order is under new leadership now,” Ren directed, his hand extended forward and clenching around an invisible neck. The general sputtered, helpless. “Snoke was weak. He strayed from our order’s mission. He betrayed us.”

It was all nonsense. Rey knew it. Hux knew it. And certainly Ren knew it. And soon all of the First Order would know it. But the general’s healthy sense of self-preservation won out over his personal ambitions and pretenses of loyalty to the late Supreme Leader.

“The Supreme Leader is dead,” Hux rasped out, prompting Ren to release him from the chokehold. Stumbling backwards with an air-starved gasp, the fair-haired man reached for his neck, as if feeling for bruises. “Long live the Supreme Leader.” His legs shaky, he had fallen onto his knees - dually out of weakness and to appease the man who could end his life then and there.

“The Supreme Leaders,” Ren corrected him. In an otherwise stern face, Rey saw that there was the smallest tinge of smugness growing in the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes were more honest - gleaming with gratification as he took in Hux’s new grovelling, submissive posturing.

Alarmed and vexxed, Rey’s brown eyes bore intently into Ren’s figure but he ignored her probing stare. Although she had not consented to the partnership, Ren knew her well enough to presume that she would not argue him in Hux’s presence at such a dangerous crossroad. Hux, who would pounce on any display of weakness, division, or hesitation.

“Go on then.” Ren sneered at the cowering man. Watching as General Hux stumbled off, slowly regaining his dignity as his posture straightened and he resumed an air of normality, the Force Warrior turned back to Rey, a new benevolence colouring his visage.

“Shall we go rally the troops?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really motivated to start writing again after I saw the Last Jedi. As always, I would really appreciate constructive criticism - there's really no better way to learn.


	2. Chapter 2

“The Supreme Leader is dead, long live the Emperor and the Empress!”

Legions of officers, stormtroopers, and the like all lifted their fists in salute. The movement travelled through the body of black and white as a ripple, a striking display of tight cohesion.

This was the empire Ren had inherited from his late master. The empire he now shared with Rey.

Roughly a week had passed since Snoke’s demise on Skywalker’s lightsaber. In that time, the Supremacy had cruised to and through the Jinata system, to dock at the obscure and uncolonized planet of Pillio. With the Resistance and the New Republic soundly vanquished, Ren had determined that Snoke’s insistence on a mobile capital was no longer logical, and that it was time to “lay down our roots”. In short time, a more formal reception had been organised, to usher in the transition of power, the new leadership - and to establish a message of legitimacy.

In fact, Ren had selected Pillio with Rey first and foremost in mind. For an ex-scavenger from a desert planet, an aquatic planet was a wet and lush wonderland.

The speech would be presented by the top general of the Order. Hux himself had elected to give the speech, a visible demonstration of his loyalty to the new authority of the Order. Rey was surprised by the enthusiasm of his delivery, given his private disdain for Ren - and by extension, for her as well. But the fiery-haired general’s reputation as a riveting orator - whose natural talents would only been seen once this millennium - preceded him, and for good reason.

A squeeze on her hand brought her back to the present. A side glance over her left shoulder and she saw that the dark man at her side was looking at her intently.

Ren had shaken hands with Hux - a physical reciprocation of Hux’s affiliation - and the grey-suited general stood in front of her now, a black-gloved hand extended expectantly.

Tugging her left hand away from Ren’s fingers, she brought her right hand forward and shook the offered hand. Her fingers twitching under the harsh firmness of Hux’s grip, she bit back a scowl, her own hand clenching in retaliation. The general’s pale, gaunt face never faltered but she thought she saw a streak of resentment in his bright blue eyes.

The rest of the First Order High Command was watching - Captain Phasma among them.

“Captain,” Ren spoke up, drawing the attention back to him. “We’ve finished with the speeches for today. Return to your corps. I don’t want them slacking in their drills because the war’s finished.” What came after victory - that would be the most difficult test of the First Order’s longevity. “And I want the next expedition teams sent out within the week.”

“It will be done.” The chrome-plated stormtrooper nodded, the small movement seeming heavy from her. “Sir.” Turning, she walked off the stage, carrying her weapon all the while. Rey never saw her without it.

Only needing to cast a short glance at the remaining officers, they took the pointed cue from Ren and dismissed themselves, following closely after Hux who was the first to turn away.

“We need to watch that one closely,” Rey murmured, watching the pale general as he sauntered out of sight. “They all look to him for example.”

“I’m well aware,” Ren replied lowly in turn, a turn of irritation in his slow, calm voice. “But they don’t love him.”

“They don’t love us either.”

“We don’t need their love. We have the force.”

At her disbelieving “hmph”, he went on. “No Starkiller Base, no Death Stars, and certainly no blasters can compare to the power of the force." His long face tired, Ren took her hand again. The gesture had become familiar to her over the course of their short partnership. “C’mon.”

Together they left the platform, striding out of the courtyard. Under the harsh light of the summer sun - Rey had been delighted to learn that the planet transitioned through four seasons - the assorted officers and stormtroopers were separating themselves. Officers were dispersing back into the base, out of sight, and stormtroopers re-sorting themselves into their neat squadrons under Phasma’s critical, rigid surveillance.

When they had re-entered the base, the automatic doors closing with a “whoosh” behind them, Ren spoke again. “You still haven’t told me where it was that you found Luke Skywalker.”

They were alone in the white, sleek halls, the clicking steps of their polished boots filling the heavy pauses in their conversation, between each careful word.

“Because it doesn’t matter.” This was the first time that Ren had directly broached the topic since Snoke’s death, but Rey sensed that the question of Skywalker’s hiding place had been hanging in his mind like a perpetual dark fog for the previous several days.

“He could still return.”

They entered a vast hall. The sun’s warmth did not seem to be able to reach this expansive, windowless chamber. Despite all its rich splendor, the space felt cold and impersonal - or alternatively, this strange, looming sense of loneliness was amplified by its opulence. On the carmine dais grew out two metallic, tall seats of gleaming steel.

There were a few human technicians occupying the space, working on the lights and the other expensive fixtures. But they were far out of earshot and knew better than to slack in their work in favour of eavesdropping on the conversations of the First Order dictators.

“He’s an old man, Ben,” Rey spoke softly, her words measured. “When - ” How to term it? “ - your falling out happened, he ran away. He abandoned his family and he let the Resistance fight Snoke alone. He’s not going to return now when _all_ of the odds have turned against him.” Skywalker could have made a difference then. Now, a sad truth: there was no place for him or the Resistance in the universe.

Ren frowned, reaching out to touch a long red piece of tapestry depicting the First Order’s ink-black sigil. “You know how he betrayed me, Rey. Don’t speak reason to me - this is personal. This is a family grievance.” He sought blood.

She didn’t. “You’re Emperor now,” Rey tried again, another approach. Her brown gaze traced a wide circle on the gleaming bronze metallic alloy floors, somewhere on the opposite end of the hall, far away from the pair. “We don’t have time to be sending troops and officers to some remote planet in the middle of nowhere so you can extract your petty revenge.” When he seemed poised to argue, she pushed on, “And you can’t go yourself either. On the off-chance that he does off you, I’d really prefer to not get stuck with having to keep the First Order together myself.” Her mouth turned snarky. “And besides, you know how fragile our position is. What a beautiful opportunity you’d be giving your rivals by pulling a disappearing act to chase after some old ghost. This is a military organisation - you can’t ask for and expect discipline and sacrifice from your men if you’re so blatantly subject to your own whims and wishes.”

A long silence succeeded Rey’s words. Ren stared hard at her all the while. She was surprised by the hurt in his dark eyes - but the frustration and anger was just about what she had expected.

If she was anyone else, she expected to be clawing and grasping at her throat right now.

“When your uncle tries to murder you as a _child_ in your sleep - ” Ren bit out, looking more betrayed and innocent than he deserved to be. “ - maybe you’ll be more sympathetic to me.”

“Would it help me relate to you if I murdered my father too?”

Another cold silence followed. Both parties frustrated, turning away. But they remained standing together, staring at the workers’ progress in tense stillness.

Eventually they broke apart, a young Colonel coming to Ren with an updated report on the rebellious Jinata Security Forces on Vardos. Ren left without a word.

It was at times like this that Rey was so pointedly reminded of how little tangible influence she actually held in the First Order. Officially she was titled its “Empress” and Ren often encouraged her to participate in the High Command discussions, but not only was she woefully inexperienced and still only slowly and painfully learning the intricate details of the Order’s politics and its relationships, but she often found herself entirely disinterested in contributing to the cause of empire-building.

She wasn’t a politician. She wasn’t a general. Rey had hoped that the Order would eventually fulfill Ren’s promises of a productive and peaceful galaxy, but even after the Resistance and New Republic had been struck down, there were still small outbreaks of uncoordinated but vigorous rebellious sentiment on distant planets and settlements. The would-be rebels were foolish, some misguided, and others outrightly corrupted and pursuing their own tyrannical agendas, but Rey’s sense of sympathy was touched. 

The First Order’s plans of colonization were progressing slowly and painfully, with high prices in blood and body. It could be twenty years before the galaxy had progressed to a state even somewhat reminiscent of the vision Ren had described to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, LadyRedStar, for leaving a comment, it was much appreciated. And thanks to everyone who left kudos or bookmarked. I'm busy now that I've returned to my classes, but I'll still be finding time to write and update.


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